The Meaning of the Universe is Love
by Madisonne
Summary: This is really sad! But it's not depressing because it has a beautiful message. When Zechs is on his deathbed, what does someone wish they'd said? Please read and review, this is, I believe, my best fic.


The Meaning of the Universe is Love

Author: Madisonne

Part: 1/1

Warnings: Angst, yaoi

Disclaimer: I don't own it. Don't sue me.

Notes: This is an extremely sad fic, but it's not supposed to be depressing. Hope you like it.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

The past few days had acted upon his body and soul as a leech, sucking the life out of him. The pain and sorrow bore into his very psyche, tormenting him with an incessant venom. 

Long days fell into sleepless nights full of nightmares that were painfully real. For the first time in his life, he felt - and was - completely, utterly, and fearfully out of control. Everything in his life had been ordered perfectly; he liked the feeling of peace it gave him. But that one phone call had taken him by the arms and shaken him to the core.

It was almost too phantasticological to be believed, the phone call, the haz-mat suits, the sealed patient quarantine...

At first he thought it to be a joke; after all, what kind of idiot assassin deals with a weapon so chancy? Too bad there would never be a punch-line...

"Only a few days ago, Lieutenant Merquise was exposed to a bio-engineered powder, an inhalational super-virus of sorts. While the emergency-response crews immediately sealed off the area, the virus had already penetrated his body and begun replication. 

"We have taken the utmost precaution to make sure that the Lieutenant is completely sequestered from _all_ personnel; a remote-controlled robot changes his drip-bag and, in general, takes care of his needs.

"Once Lieutenant Merquise succumbs to the disease, the entire block will be mechanically disinfected, then chemically broken down to destroy any spores that may remain.

"We would like to impress upon the public that this is _not_ an emergency; it is simply a matter of containment." The doctor finished, with a cheesy smile for the eager reporters.

Behind the doctor, General Treize Khushrenada seethed. How _dare_ that man treat the death of a good officer and, hell, a good _person_, so glibly? For Christ's sake, the man was _dieing_! The carelessly satisfied tone the doctor maintained in his speech rankled like a festering sore.

His anger finally overthrowing his duty, the general stormed out of the briefing room, leaving in his wake a sea of flashing bulbs.

His pulse pounded furiously through his body; the disdain for how casually the entire hospital and military was taking this whole situation pushed him beyond livid. As soon as the initial terror of the situation had died down, the entire world treated Zechs either as an anathema or as already dead. It seemed as though the man was an accepted casualty, no longer even a person.

_Treize_ would never forget the fact that it was his very best friend in that isolation room. The fact that his _friend_ was the one behind the glass walls, hooked up to beeping machines, tears of pain and loneliness falling on crystalline cheeks, riveting into streams of salt-water that tangled through his silken pure-blonde locks.

He had spent the past few days looking in on a suffering world and wasn't sure that he could take much more.

His troubled walk had lead him to the hospital's ICU quarantine quarter. Not for the first time he wished that the establishment had invested in an intercom system between the partition. If nothing else, Treize wished he could tell the Lieutenant some of the things he'd avoided saying due to the war. Here it wouldn't matter what might've transpired between them; it was almost as if the hospital represented the world in "stand-by" mode.

Treize saw Zechs' eyes flutter wearily, focusing slowly on the white tiled ceiling. The ice-blue mirrors of the soul seemed saddeningly vacant.

A doctor, followed by a flock of residents, pushed past Treize and stopped to observe the patient. "I wager he has about... Five, ten more at the most." The doctor announced, looking down at his chart.

Some of the residents nodded, and a few jotted down a note to the same effect. None of them looked too concerned for the man inside, however.

"Is it dangerous to spend so much time around him? I don't want to catch what he has!" A resident piped up, disgust at the patient clear in her eyes and body. 

"No, but he's not of much interest anyway. All the truly fascinating things have already happened. All that's left to him is for the disease to overcome his body." The doctor answered casually.

Treize nearly snapped; the complete disregard these people showed for Zechs was infuriating. He had to force himself not to beat each and every one of them into oblivion. 

The staff left and he felt his anger dissipating slowly through his skin. Any last remnants of hard feelings vanished as his friend coughed painfully. His acute discomfort was almost too much for Treize to bear. 

As another stream of tears flooded the lieutenant's eyes, Treize made a decision and headed for a closet-sized addition to the quarantine layer. Passing through the air-locked doors, he entered the hot zone. 

His ears were assaulted by the sounds of beeping and raspy breathing, but the room was otherwise entirely similar to the one in which he'd watched his friend.

On the other side of the glass, a few horrified lab technicians watched his movements and a particularly aghast colonel passed out. After the initial shock, however, they all knew there was no saving the general and watched in solemn attentiveness as the man approached the hospital cot.

Not knowing what to do, Treize eased down onto his knees beside the cot, reaching over for and lightly encompassing a pale white hand in his own.

At the touch, the young man stirred slightly, and slowly turned his head to see who had been foolish enough to enter the chamber. "Treize..." His voice was soft and weak, torn from days of his body shutting down. "You shouldn't be here; you'll get sick."

He said nothing, but his eyes told the other that he held no intentions of leaving.

"Thank you..."

"For what?" Treize asked, slightly surprised.

"I was lonely."

"I know."

"I'm scared."

"I know." He nodded, true understanding in his eyes.

"Why... Why did you come?"

"I'm sorry."

A small flicker of a frown ghosted across his pained face. "What?"

"I'm sorry. There are so many things... So many things that I should have told you. I was scared. I'm so sorry..."

He was silent. "Why did you come?" Gentle, but still insistent.

Treize didn't know what to say. He decided that the question could be answered quite simply. "I love you. I have for a very long time. I was afraid to tell you because of... Well, everything. But know I wish I had been stronger..."

For a moment, Zechs was completely silent, the beeping of the machines permeating the air. "I know. I think I've always known in some way, just never... Never realized it." 

He nodded, understanding. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." 

Zechs coughed. "I probably wouldn't have believed you. Word has it that I was quite the cynical bastard."

Treize laughed lightly, the tension dissipating. "Well, I wouldn't go _that_ far..." He slowly stood up and sat on the edge of the cot, still cradling the cold hand in his own.

"You know, I fell in love with you the first day I saw you."

"You are incredibly cheesy, my friend."

He smiled slightly. "But I did." He looked away for a moment. "You shouldn't be here; you'll get sick and die too."

"Zechs, I want you to listen to me and to believe me." He was instantaneously serious. "I would rather die a thousand bloody deaths than miss you at this very moment." 

Tears welled up in the younger man's eyes again. "Now who's a cheesy person?" He asked, trying to joke. He closed his eyes and became sombre. "It's cold."

Treize frowned. "What?"

"It's cold, the darkness out there..." He opened his eyes again, focused on something that Treize couldn't quite discern. 

"I'll be here with you. You won't be alone and I won't be far behind. Wait for me?"

He smiled painfully through his tears. "For forever, if need be."

Treize knew in that moment that the young man spoke the truth and was strangely comforted. He leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on chapped lips, sealing their promise. He scooted down on the cot and pulled the other into his arms.

The two stayed like that for hours, neither talking, for nothing needed to be said. And Treize was good to his word, he stayed there with the other in his arms until the very end, when the flat-lined machine was turned off by the personnel via remote and waited. Waited for time to take him to join Zechs in eternity.

* * * * * * * 

Do not stand at my grave and weep;  
I am not there, I do not sleep.  
I am a thousand winds that blow.  
I am the diamond glints on snow.  
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.  
I am the gentle autumn rain.  
When you awaken in the morning's hush  
I am the swift uplifting rush  
Of quiet birds in circled flight.  
I am the soft stars that shine at night.  
Do not stand at my grave and cry;  
I am not there. I did not die.

What is the meaning of the universe? The meaning of the universe is love. Do not weep for the dead; they are never dead, they never sleep. 

If you listen hard enough, on a cold winter's day, you can hear them, laughing on the wind.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Notes: This is my favourite piece that I have written. Please review.


End file.
